


Page 80

by DrawingWithGreen13



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Hinting at previous relationship, M/M, Marijuana, Masturbation, Michael is once again a pining gay nerd, NSFW, Only this time he's more horny, Practically phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrawingWithGreen13/pseuds/DrawingWithGreen13
Summary: 1 AM is, frankly, a terrible time to masturbate. It's also a terrible time to call a friend while high. Basically, everything you decide to do at 1 AM is a bad choice that you'll regret in the morning.





	1. Is it gay to masturbate to your best friend at 1AM while high?

**Author's Note:**

> Basically my version of the infamous Page 80 from the book. JUST A HEADS UP if this fic seems really similar to @idiotmugwump 's Page 80 fic then that's because that was the first Page 80 fic I ever read, and I read it (and wrote this) BEFORE reading the book, which led me to believe that a lot of the details from their fic were actually what happened during the book (such as the time being 1 AM and Michael being stoned). Hell this even has a second part, as you could see from the chapters. I don't mean to rip off idiotmugwump's fic with this, so I apologise if it comes off as that. Just know that I'm a big fan of that fic and like it a lot lol

The time is one AM and my laptop's light is really bright compared to the rest of my room, but when you're a frequent one AM masturbator like me, then you start to get used to it. Besides, I could always turn the brightness down.  
  
I have tissues to my right and so far, I'm wondering if I'll even need them. The porno I chose this time is so lacklustre compared to the ones I usually watch. But I'm a horny teenager and no one's telling me to stop, so why should I? I guess the time could be an issue, 'cause I have school tomorrow. Or...today.  
  
This goes to show how boring this porno is. I'm thinking about  _school_.  
  
Suddenly, I feel my phone start to vibrate from my bedside counter. Part of me wants to ignore it, hoping that it's just a wrong number, so that I can get back to masturbating in peace. But then I remember how unsatisfying the porno is, so I pick up, to end my boredom. It's Michael.  
  
"Dude, what the fuck?" I say, quietly. "It's one in the morning. Are you high or something?"  
  
"Well, hello to you too," he replies. I can almost see the sarcasm in his face. "And yes, I am, actually. That's why I called you. Getting stoned without you is boring as shit."  
  
For some reason, a part of me feels flattered by that. "Uh...thanks?"  
  
"So, you're questioning why  _I'm_  up so late...what about  _you_? One AM isn't any different when you only live a few blocks away."  
  
I contemplate. Should I tell him the truth? Nah, that'd probably weird him out. But at the same time, we talk about the most private shit all the time, and  _he's_  usually the one who brings it up. He speaks before I can give a proper answer, however.  
  
"Homework?"  
  
I furrow my brow. "Do you really think I'd stay up until one AM to do homework?"  
  
"No," says Michael. "But it's the only thing I can think of."  
  
"There's other things I could do at one AM."  
  
"Like?"  
  
"Dude, you can't be  _that_  high. Come on, think."  
  
Things go quiet as Michael thinks about what else I could be doing at one AM. While I wait, my eyes drift towards the porno. It's still going, and...I feel myself regretting what I said earlier about it being boring. It's picking up, and I feel my hand start to work harder.  
  
But I can't make a noise because Michael is still on the line.  
  
"Are you stoned too?" he asks. I try to keep my cool and reply with a soft mumble, the kind that someone makes when they want someone to know that they're wrong. I can almost hear the cogs turn in Michael's head. It's kinda hilarious.  
  
"Dude, you're so fucking h _ah_..."  
  
My hand immediately goes up to cover my mouth. I don't know if Michael heard that, but I hope to God he didn't.  
  
Suddenly, he says something.  
  
"...are you watching porn?"  
  
Shit.  
  
"Ah, uh...y-yeah."  
  
I'm about to stop masturbating and hang up on Michael out of sheer embarrassment, but the lady in the porno keeps moaning exactly how I like, and it's turning me on too much to stop. My hand continues, and I completely forget that Michael is on the line.  
  
The lady lets out one final, ecstatic moan and so do I, along with her. I feel my muscles relax and my face burn from how flushed I am, grabbing a tissue that I actually  _did_  need in the end. I feel satisfied and comfortable...  
  
Until I suddenly remember that Michael is still there, and probably heard everything.  
  
My muscles tense back up as I gasp, furiously apologising while wiping my neck. "Oh fuck, dude, I'm so sorry, I forgot, I didn't-"  
  
But I pause as I notice that Michael isn't talking. No snide comments, not even a chuckle. He's still on the line, and-  
  
" _Mmh_..."  
  
...moaning.  
  
"Uh...Mi-"  
  
" _Jeremy_..."  
  
I feel like I'm listening to some sorta top-secret operation that I shouldn't be hearing. My entire face burns up and my feet go cold (what's that called again? Contradictory?) because  _I'm literally listening to Michael masturbate to the thought of me_ , most likely without him even knowing. Part of me wants to hang up on him to save him anymore embarrassment, but this other part of me is oddly curious as to why - and  _what_ \- he's thinking about me.  
  
I can hear his moans get more frequent, and soon enough, I hear him sigh as he finishes. He's a lot more vocal than me, that's for sure.  
  
I feel my stomach clench in worry as I go to ask "You, uh...you enjoy that?"  
  
I hear his phone fall from his shoulder onto his beanbag and try my hardest to stifle a chuckle. I can already hear the frantic apologising and self-bullying comments before he even puts the phone back to his ear. "Jesus, I'm so sorry, I forgot, I didn't know, I'm so high, I completely forgot, oh God-"  
  
"It's fine. You just heard me do the same, didn't you?" I say, calmly, considering the situation that had just occurred.  
  
"It's not that, it's not just that, I just- oh, fuck...d-did you hear me say your name?"  
  
He almost says that last part in a whisper. Even though I don't say anything, the silence was enough to confirm Michael's suspicions.  
  
"Oh my God...dude, I'm so fucking sorry, I-"  
  
"Dude, chill, I'm not mad. Honestly I'm..." I hesitate, wondering if this next part is a good or dumb thing to say. "...kinda curious as to why you did."  
  
I feel Michael's nervous expression run down my spine, and wait.  
  
"...can I tell you tomorrow? Maybe when I, um...maybe when I'm sober, it'll make more sense."  
  
I feel kinda disappointed, but looking at the time, it suddenly occurs to me that school is more important than figuring out someone's sexual desires, so I agree and hang up. I put my laptop and the tissues to one side as I attempt to get comfortable in my bed. All things considered, I  _should_  be able to get to sleep really easily; that porno turned from one of the worst to one of the best I've ever seen.  
  
But one thing keeps buzzing in the back of my mind. Something that I haven't thought about in years. Something I kind of wish would never have to be an issue again.  
  
Does Michael have a thing for me?


	2. Is it gay to still have feelings for your best friend after breaking up with him?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told you that anything you do t 1AM will result in you regretting it the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter 2. Again, inspired by idiotmugwump's Page 80 fic, which is rly good you should go read it and give kudos k
> 
> Also, sorry Boyf riends shippers!

The time is three PM and I can already feel a pit form in my stomach. It's not a new feeling, so I don't make a huge deal out of it, but the fact that Michael is the source of it makes me feel more uneasy than usual. The worst part is that I can't tell if it's dread or excitement.  
  
While waiting on the steps outside of the school, my mind replays the events that happened last night. I'm surprised that I'm able to remember it all. I was watching a shitty porno when Michael called me, high, asking what I was doing. Things only escalated from there, and I ended up orgasming while on the phone with him, which I can only assume is what caused  _him_  to start masturbating. Thing is...why would he masturbate to the thought of  _me_? After so long?  
  
"Jeremy?" asks a familiar voice. My head snaps around quickly to see Michael to my side. He looks a lot less excited than usual.  
  
"Hey," I reply, quietly, awkwardly. "How was your day?"  
  
"Alright. I got my test results back in my tech class."  
  
"What'd you get?"  
  
"B."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
It almost feels as if the floor beneath us is turning to ice as we speak. This is the most awkward I've ever felt around Michael, and that's saying something, considering the events of last night.  
  
"So," I start. "about last night-"  
  
"C-can we, uh, talk about that somewhere else?" interrupts Michael. "Maybe my house, or...something."  
  
I nod my head. To be honest, I don't know why I tried to talk about it in public, on school grounds, where the next kid to walk by could call us gay (even though they would just be stating facts in Michael's case). We get up and start walking to Michael's house.  
  
I glance over to Michael, and it's as if his feelings are written all over his face. Anxiety, dread...relief?  
  
...  
  
It still feels weird to enter Michael's room and have it  _not_  smell like weed. It almost feels wrong. But getting high during the conversation we're about to have wouldn't be productive in the slightest. Hell, it would probably make it worse.  
  
I sit myself down on one of the beanbags and Michael does the same. The two of us stay in silence for a few minutes.  
  
"...so, about last n-"  
  
"I-it just slipped out," Michael interjects, abruptly. "I was just thinking about other things 'cause your moaning kinda reminded me of these hot guys I saw in the parking lot at 7 eleven and it just made me want to get those feelings out but I kept remembering that I was on the line with you and you just kept popping in my head and-"  
  
"Dude, you have lungs, use them," I say. "And I already said I didn't have a problem with it."  
  
Now that a new day has started since the incident, I realise that I  _may_  have a problem with it. A small one. Michael and I are best friends, obviously, and our bond is close, but...Michael seems to have a different kind of bond with me. One that I thought was over between us.  
  
"How can you not have a problem with it? I moaned your fucking name while masturbating, WHILE YOU WERE STILL ON THE LINE. Doesn't that weird you out?"  
  
I let the silence answer his question. He looks ashamed.  
  
I look away. "...you were lying, weren't you?"  
  
He looks confused. "What?"  
  
"Describing what you were masturbating to. You lied. I could tell."  
  
He's biting his lip. "W...what part did I lie about?"  
  
"The part where you said you were masturbating to some guys you found in a 7 eleven parking lot. The way you moaned my name last night sounded too genuine for the thought of me to just 'pop into your head'." I sound angry, but I'm not. I'm concerned.  
  
I take a breath. "Is this about what happened two y-"  
  
"I'm sorry," Michael says, quickly. He has a habit of interrupting me when he gets nervous. "I'm so sorry, I just, I don't know, I keep thinking back to then and how happy I made you feel and how happy you made me feel and a huge fucking part of me didn't want that to end. I just wanted to keep making you smile, and I wanted you to stay there forever, even though I knew it wasn't possible- " He takes a breath and continues. I swear I can see his eyes getting glossy.  
  
"I just...sometimes, I think back to when we were...us, and not just friends. It was some of the best days of my life. We made each other so happy, and it actually made us excited to get out of the house so that we could meet each other at school. It made  _me_  feel like I had something that was worth existing for-"  
  
He pauses when he sees my expression.  
  
He sinks further into his beanbag. "I'm so fucking stupid."  
  
"No," I say, sternly. "You aren't. How long have you been keeping this in?"  
  
He looks at me, reluctantly. "Honestly, I don't even know. Since we broke up? I don't know..."  
  
Now I can recognise the pit in my stomach as not dread, not excitement, but  _guilt_. Guilt that my best friend hasn't been able to confess to me that he still likes me, even after two years.  
  
Even though he looks like he wants to be left alone forever right now, I move a little closer. "Dude, I didn't know..."  
  
"Of course you didn't," snaps Michael. "I haven't told a single person until now. This...this should feel cathartic, shouldn't it?"  
  
I don't reply.  
  
"Why does it feel like someone punched me in the stomach?"  
  
His voice cracks on that last word. I feel the guilt build up even more.  
  
The next few minutes are spent with me close to Michael's side as his back faces me, presumably so he doesn't let me see him cry (he's not a very loud crier). My mind is racing with things to say to comfort him. 'It's okay, I'm not mad', 'You had a right to feel that way', 'I still think you're pretty hot', but I know that won't help.  
  
I let him softly cry as I wait there, my face blank. Then, a thought comes to my head.  
  
"...do you remember that day where I forgot my pen at home?" I say. "And I had to ask you for one, but you couldn't find it in your backpack?"  
  
He turns to face me. His eyes are slightly red.  
  
"It took you about two minutes to find one, and when you took it out, all the ink was gone."  
  
I can see his mouth curl into a smile.  
  
"And," he continues, for me, sniffing. "You were so pissed, but I laughed, and that made you laugh."  
  
I smile. "Yeah...you sounded like a kettle."  
  
He lets out a small chuckle at that, and I do the same. The air goes quiet again, as we both think of things we can say.  
  
"...you remember something else about that day?" I say, finally. Michael shakes his head.  
  
"It was a day where we weren't together. It was after our break up."  
  
Michael makes a confused look.  
  
I smile. "Think about it, dude. It was after we were a thing, and we still had a close as shit bond. You managed to make me laugh even though I was ready to punch something." He lets out another chuckle. "We knew that we couldn't be a thing anymore, but that didn't mean we couldn't be friends. Look, if you're scared that you confessing's made things awkward, then...you, uh, wouldn't be wrong, but that doesn't change the fact that we're still really close friends, okay?"  
  
I can see Michael's face relax. He doesn't look overjoyed, but he doesn't look disappointed either. He looks relieved, and honestly, I think that's the best response he could have.  
  
I see him wipe his eyes with his sleeve. "Still...sorry about that. That was a  _lot_  of baggage-"  
  
" _I'm_  sorry," I interrupt. "I'm sorry that you couldn't tell me about this."  
  
"I could; I just didn't want to."  
  
"That's fair."  
  
We laugh for a small while and spend yet another few minutes in pure silence. This time, it feels comfortable. It feels right.  
  
Suddenly, I get a thought. A random thought out of nowhere that actually causes my cheeks to flush slightly. I can tell that Michael is looking at me weird, even thought I'm not looking his way.  
  
"So, I, uh, I just had an idea...it's kinda dumb, but...wanna see what it feels like again? For old time's sake."  
  
Michael immediately recognises my implication and I can see his own cheeks turn to crimson, only his are a lot more than a mere flush. It's kinda funny.  
  
"...yeah, sure. Okay."  
  
It takes us a while to actually get to it, but eventually, we kiss. Nothing overly passionate, but not without feeling either. It's something...simple. Something soft, and gentle. Although, I don't expect it to go on for this long.  
  
Once we part, I can see the shine in Michael's eyes. He looks so happy. His smile makes me smile, and eventually we're left as two guys having a laughing fit in Michael's basement. Our eyes are wet from laughter and our stomachs hurt.  
  
"Dude," manages Michael, still wheezing. "You kiss the exact same."  
  
"So do you," I reply. "You're so gentle..."  
  
We both calm down after God knows how long of laughter, and wait. We don't know what we're waiting for, but we wait. Maybe for someone to come in and tell me that I need to go home because it's late, or for the atmosphere to go cold again, or for one of us to ask if we should get back together. We aren't quite sure. We don't really care, this feels nice.  
  
"Jeremy?"  
  
I cock my head towards Michael. He looks content. "Yeah?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
I smile, he smiles back, and even though we both know that it won't happen again, we smile as we remember us, two years ago.


End file.
